


a budding romance

by bilexualclarke (ohalaskayoung)



Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, erotic painter!Bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6845950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohalaskayoung/pseuds/bilexualclarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, you have been getting pretty up close and personal with my vagina over the last few months," Clarke says drily, smirking at him over her glass of orange juice. "This won't be much different."</p><p>Bellamy's eyes darken and he licks his lips. "I don't know, Clarke," he says, his voice rough. "I think it might."</p><p>prompt: Bellamy is an erotic painter and Clarke wants to be his canvas</p>
            </blockquote>





	a budding romance

**based off of[this post](http://bellamyplake.tumblr.com/post/119662729964)**

* * *

“I can’t believe you’ve never asked me to model for you.”

Bellamy chokes on his coffee, and Clarke watches him sputter a bit before reaching over and thumping his back, her lips quirked up in amusement. 

“I thought, uh,” Bellamy coughs again, “I thought it might make things a bit weird.”

“You mean the thing where we’ve been fucking for months and none of our friends know about it? That thing?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Clarke reaches over and steals a piece of bacon from his plate and then sits back against the booth. “How would it make things weird?”

If you asked her how she and Bellamy have known each other for roughly four years (and been very close for the past two) and she was only  _just finding out_ that he enjoys erotic painting in his spare time, she wouldn’t have an answer for you. The newfound knowledge not only sparked a hint of intrigue in her, but also a bit of- what, exactly? Jealously? Anger?

She was only an artist herself, and had also spent a good portion of her time in college working as a nude model (her mother had cut her off for deciding to pursue art instead of medicine, and she needed all the extra cash she could get), all of this which Bellamy knew. So why had he not asked  _her_  to model for him?

“You know, you _have_  been getting pretty up close and personal with my vagina over the last few months,” Clarke says drily, smirking at him over her glass of orange juice. “This won’t be much different.”

Bellamy’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “I don’t know, Clarke,” he says, his voice rough. “I think it might.”

Octavia returns from the bathroom a moment later, sliding into the booth next to Clarke and immediately launching into a story about her kickboxing class earlier that week. Bellamy shifted his focus to his sister, but every couple of minutes his eyes lingered on Clarke, his gaze dark and hungry.

* * *

 

Two weeks later, she is on her knees in the cramped kitchen space of his apartment, his cock heavy in her mouth and one hand fisted in her hair. 

“I want you to paint me,” Clarke says, all in one rushed breath, after his dick falls from her mouth with a wet smack. She has her small, soft hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach. She gives him a squeeze when she speaks, and his eyes widen and his thighs tense.

Clarke quickly puts her mouth around him again, and he comes seconds later with a low groan. She swallows and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking.

“Jesus, Clarke,” he breathes, wrecked. “Okay, yeah. If you want.”

She hops to her feet, unable to stop herself from pressing a quick kiss to his lips. It were those actions, the little kisses and touches that were just a bit too intimate for their friends-with-benefits setup that usually worried her, but right now she was too excited to overanalyze it. 

After she found out about his hobby, she strong-armed him into sending her pictures of some of his work. Some of them were modest- vines wrapping up a woman’s bare leg, stars painted across a man’s back. Others were more intimate- flames spiraling around a woman’s nipple, a dripping rainbow down someone’s stomach and on to their penis.

Those were the ones that got her hot, that had her stare at them in awe, picturing Bellamy’s gentle hands as he worked the brush over the bodies.

More often than not, she would find herself scrolling through the images, one hand holding her phone and the other down her pants. 

“Now?” she asks excitedly. Bellamy scrubs a hand over his face and tugs her in for another kiss.

“Go meet me in my room,” he mumbles against her mouth, playfully biting her lip. He slaps her ass as she walks away, and she puts an extra shimmy in her step as she goes.

Shaking is head in awe, Bellamy goes to retrieve his paints from the hall closet. His mind is running crazy with possibilities but when he steps into his room and sees Clarke sprawled naked on his bed, staring at him with hooded eyes, he loses his train of thought entirely. 

“I have an idea,” she murmurs, sitting up so that her back is against the pillows by his headboard.

Bellamy places the paints and the towel he grabbed at the foot of the bed. “Of course you do.”

“I want a flower. A pink one.” Clarke’s hand trails slowly over her stomach before coming to rest atop her pubic mound, her finger stretching to rub lightly at her clit as she speaks. “Right here.”

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” Bellamy groans. 

He’s still naked, and hard again already, and Clarke doesn’t hide the fact that she’s checking out every inch of him. “Not before you do this,” she says cheekily.

“How considerate.”

Bellamy spreads the towel over the sheets and then slides Clarke down the bed so that her butt is resting on top of them, her legs still spread wide for him. He can’t help but duck down and press a kiss to her clit, loving the way she gasps when his lips make contact with the sensitive nub. 

“Just so you know,” Bellamy says, nosing his way down her thigh, “the paint is safe to use on your body but I still won’t put it  _in_ your vagina. Just around the outside.” He teases her outer lips with his thumb as he speaks.

Clarke places a hand on top of his head, pulling his hair a bit so he looks up and meets her eyes. 

“I trust you,” she says with a fond smile, and he bites the sensitive skin behind her knee in response. 

He pulls out a few bottles of paint and squeezes a couple of drops of each onto a small palette, which he places on the towel next to her left thigh. 

“Now I need you to stay very still for me. Can you do that, Clarke?” he asks, his voice rough has he dips his brush into the paint. 

“Yes,” she breathes, and he smiles.

“Put your hands behind your knees to hold your legs open for me, babe. Yes, like that. You’re such a good girl. _Fuck_ , always so good for me.”

Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, feeling the flush spread across her face and chest. Bellamy knows exactly what his dirty talk does to her, and when she’s so open and exposed like this, he can see the proof.

“ _Oh shit_ , Clarke. God damn. Look how wet you are for me.” 

He lifts his free hand to her cunt, his fingers stroking up her slit and coming up shiny with her arousal. He offers them to her, and she sucks it off his fingers, loving the way he growls when he presses down on her tongue and she hollows her cheeks, sucking them and flicking her tongue like she does around his cock. 

“You’re going to be positively dripping by the time I’m done with you,” Bellamy says, grinning wickedly.

He’s right, of course. The touch of the paintbrush is tantalizingly gentle as he smooths the cool paint over her skin. His breath is hot on her clit the whole time, his free hand grazing everywhere he can reach- her thighs, her stomach, her breasts. Once in a while, to tease her, he flips the brush upside down and presses the wood against her clit. She always arches up into the pressure, and as soon as she does he takes it away.

“I said you had to be still for me, beautiful,” he murmurs, and when she finally relaxes again he rewards her by circling her clit with his thumb. “So good for me.”

When he’s finished, he asks if she wants him to take a picture, and of course she says yes. He grabs her phone from where it’s charging on his nightstand (another startling nod towards domesticity Clarke is not yet ready to acknowledge) and snaps a close up of the finishes project, then leans back to get a shot of her whole body.

When he shows them to her, she is shocked by the beauty of his work. Sure, she had seen his other paintings, but seeing his art on her own body was a vastly different experience. Her clit acted as the bud of the flower, and pink petals bloomed around it in various hues. 

“Bellamy, this is so beautiful,” she gasps. 

“I know.” When she looks up, his gaze is on her. “You really are.”

She flushes under the heat of his gaze. “I meant the painting.”

Bellamy takes the phone from her hands and places it back on the nightstand. 

“Let’s be honest,” he says, pressing kisses down her body, “you’re the real work of art here.”

Clarke throws back her head and laughs. “How long have you been planning that one-  _oh_!”

Bellamy licks at her clit softly, with just enough pressure to start building her orgasm but not enough to get her there. He is careful to avoid the paint, alternating between loving on her clit and tongue fucking her nice and slow, letting her orgasm build and build until she is shaking and desperate for it. When he goes to focus on her clit again, she lets go off her legs and grabs at his hair with both hands. 

“Harder, please!” Clarke begs. “I need to come, Bellamy.  _Please_  let me come.”

He removes his mouth from her cunt and she  _whimpers_ , but his thumb is immediately there, rubbing soothing, placating circles on her clit. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you baby. We’re gonna make you come so good, yeah? I want it all over my mouth, Clarke, you hear me? Give it to me, beautiful.”

He returns his mouth to her with renewed vigor and she practically screams when he sucks her clit into his mouth, holding it gently between his teeth and laving at it with his tongue. She comes almost immediately, nearly tearing his hair from his skull with how hard she pulls on it. Her back arches off the bed and his strong hands press her thighs back down into the mattress, holding her in place as he licks up every drop of her cum. 

“ _Bell... Oh, yes, Bell_ ,” she pants, releasing her grip on his hair to scratch lazily at his scalp as he licks her clean. “You’re so good to me.”

Bellamy feels a flash of pride at her words, ducking his head so she won’t see the grin that threatens to light up his face. When her breathing returns to normal she yanks him up to lay next to her on the bed, pulling him in for rough, dirty kiss. 

“That was so hot,” she breathes, looking up at him through her eyelashes and biting her lip.

 _Fuck._  How can he _not_  be totally wrecked by this girl?

“Damn right it was,” is what he says, his hand running down her body and squeezing the ample flesh of her ass. 

 “I’ll wash this off in a bit,” Clarke says, closing her eyes and snuggling into him. “Right now, we rest.”

Bellamy stares down at her, and his heart twinges with a feeling that has been all too familiar as of later. 

“Sure, Clarke,” he says softly, brushing a loose blonde curl off of her face. “Whatever the hell you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> are you guys ready for the season finale? I'm not. come cry with me on tumblr!  
> (bilexualclarke)


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